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THE 



CHARACTER OF WILLIAM PEM 

VINDICATED, 



AN ADDRESS, 



HON. BENJAMIN PATTON, 



THE CLASSICAL INSTITUTE, 



GREENSBURGH, PA. 



PITTSBURGH: 

PRINTED BY GEO. PARKfN & CO. OAZETrK Bni.ntNGS, THIRD ST. 

1849. 



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Grecnsburgh, May 3, 1849. 
Hon. Benj. Patton, 

Sir: — In behalf of tho Trustees and Students of the 
Grecnsburgh Classical Institute, and of the citizens generally, we earnestly 
solicit for publication, a copy of the very able and eloquent Address, delivered by 
you, on the evening of the 2nd inst. in vindication of the character of the 
illustrious founder of our state. 

W. P. RUTHRAUFF, 
A. H. WATERS, 
.lOHN RUGAN, 
JOHN WINHERS, 
J. M. BURRELL, 
JOHN ARMSTRONG, 
H. D. FOSTER. 



Pittsburgh, May 7, 1849. 

Gentlemen: — It would have afforded me more pleasure to comply with 
vour kind request, had time and a more extended access to sources of historical 
information enabled me to prepare an address more worthy of your attention. 
As it is, my consolation is that the publication of the remarks may do some 
little good in the inculcation of sentiments with which every Pennsylvanian ought 
to cherish the memory of the great Founder of our Commonwealth. 

With the warmest regards, 

I am, yours, &c. 

BENJ. PATTON. 
To W. P. Rlthrauff, and others. 



A I) I) 11 ESS. 



Since I received the invitation, with which I have been honored, 
to be present on this occasion, nearly every hour of my time 
has been devoted to the discharge of pubhc duties. There- 
fore I cannot say I have come to deUver an address. All the 
effort I shall be able to make, will scarcely be entitled to that 
dignity. To make some remarks, hastily thrown together, is 
all that I can propose, and all I can do, towards complying with 
the urgent solicitations that have reached me from different 
quarters, and that have brought me here from the midst of 
pressing engagements. But I can at least testify my gratitude 
for the kindness that prompted the invitation, my sincere re- 
spect for the people of this town and county, and my best 
wishes for the success of an Institution, which, the more it 
prospers, the more will it be a blessing and an honor to the 
community in which it thrives, and to the highly respectable 
sect of Chi'istians under whose auspices it has been founded. 

The remarks I intend to make will relate to a subject that 
must have arrested the attention of every citizen of this state who 
has read Macaulay's History of England. The author of that 
great work stands among the foremost men of the age. His 
fame as a writer, a critic, a scholar, and a statesman, had taught 
the reading world to look to him for some great literary achiev- 
ment. Their expectation has been realized. He who, as a 
critic, had been lecturing all other modem authors, and telling 
them and their readers what a history should be, has furnished 
a striking praclical illustration in a work on the subject from his 



own pen. No sculptor rvor (leUuoalcd in m;irV)le the features 
of tlie livin"- model more vividly than he has painted the charac- 
ters of men, and the features of social, religious and political 
society. This eminent author, who perhaps overtovvers all other 
men of the age in the republic of letters, has been the architect 
of his own fame. The force of his own genius, and the energy 
of his own will, have lilted him up to the loftiest height of intel- 
lectual power. 

A word of compliment from such a source bestowed on any 
historical character, is enough to raise that character high in the 
world's thought. A word of condemnation from the same 
source, must fall upon its object with a fearful weight. 

But even the greatest men are but fallible beings. The lion 
of literature, in the exuberance of his strength, may inflict great 
injustice on the subjects of his pen, as the lion of the forest, by 
indulging in a playful or sardonic mood, inflicts the tortures of 
death on the feeble prey within his grasp. The historian may 
dwell too much on the faults and foibles of his characters, and 
too little on the bright side of the picture. He may stop to 
paint the scene at a point where all is sad and gloomy, and 
never go back or forward to catch the glorious sunshine of the 
landscape. It has often been remarked, in the circles of the 
legal profession, that those who have filled the office of public 
prosecutor for a great length of time, are slow to perceive the 
merits of a defence. The man who has all his life followed the 
profession of a literary surgeon, has an eye chiefly for the seats 
of disease and malformation in his subjects. Their healthful 
parts and natural proportions do not engage his attention. The 
trade of a critic, like that of a butcher, has a tendency to blunt 
the finer sensibilities of his nature. Certain it is he would ra- 
ther deal in a sarcasm than a compliment. 

The author has laid irreverent hands on the character of the 
illustrious founder of our Commonwealth. He has justly re- 
marked that it recjuired no oidinnry degree of courage to do so, 



considering the profound veneration in whicli tiiiii character Jia.s 
been lield, both in Eurojie and in America — both by the civilized 
man and the savage — by tlie free and the bondman. So may it 
be said tliat it requires no ordinary share of presumption to call 
in question the judgments of this august chancellor, who wields 
a sort of supreme jurisdiction in the realm of literature. Such 
an attempt may be the more hazardous, since, in this remote 
part of the world, we have no access to many of the sources 
from which he may have derived his information. Anything, 
therefore, beyond a mere general defence, becomes, in our lo- 
cality, impracticable. The question, in all its details, is, no 
doubt, undergoing, at this moment, a thorough investigation in 
England. Both sides will therefore be heard; and the result, 
we trust, will be a triumphant vindication of the memory of 
William Penn from every serious imputation. 

The people of this state have, more than any other people on 
the face of the earth, a deep interest in the fame of their o-reat 
lawgiver. They are the chosen inheritors of the fruits of a life 
devoted to the cause of philanthropy. He it was who first 
stamped on our system the guaranties that, to this day, yield 
security and enjoyment to life, liberty and property. While 
the cardinal maxims of government, of personal integrity, of 
social virtue, of pubUc justice, of political wisdom, and of re- 
ligious charity, that occupied his labors, and were displayed in 
his practice, while living, have been, in some measure, lost on 
the world at large, they have been handed down to us by a 
peculiar and valid will of the testator. They fonn the basis of 
our institutions. Their essence pervades the charter of our 
hberties. They are incorporated in our laws. They enter into 
our code of morals. They are felt in our social relations. They 
govern, or ought to govern, our individual conduct. 

Have not the people of this commonwealth then a large stake, 
and a common property, in the good name of William Penn ? 
Are we not entitled to raise our voices in defence of his rcputa- 



8 

lion, no matter who may be the assailant 1 May we not, with 
justice, and in a spirit of defiance, say to the disturbers of his 
fame, we care not what foibles in him the eye of contemporary 
malice may have detected I We care not what defects of char- 
acter, or acts of indiscretion, may have grown out of his unfor- 
tunate, but necessary intercourse with the society of a corrupt 
age, and a licentious court. We care not what garbage the 
modern snupes of liistory may have picked up in the purlieus of 
Kensington. Turn away from these unprofitable themes, and 
look at us, the peaceful, the moral, the industrious, the frugal, 
the prosperous, the contented, the liberty-loving, law-abiding, 
population of Pennsylvania ! Behold here the genuine work- 
ings of his spirit, transplanted to a purer and more genial atmos- 
phere! Behold, in this free and flourishing Commonwealth, 
the legitimate results of his enterprise, his foresight, and his 
virtues ! Here is a well proportioned, massive fabric, reared orl 
a foundation, laid by his own hands. Here is a monument to 
his name, which, we pray, may endure as long as histoiy itself 
shall last ! 

Nothiner is better known than the fact that the character of 

o 

Penn, in his lifetime, was grossly traduced. It would have 
been wonderful, indeed, and quite contrary to the experience of 
mankind, if he had escaped the poisoned shafts of calumny. 
He belonged to a religious sect, who were regarded, according 
to the prevailing notions of the period, as so many demure 
hypocrites, and canting schismatics. He was a reformer. He 
enjoyed at the same time a sort of proconsular dignity from 
being the owner, the lawgiver and the ruler of a province large 
enough to form a European kingdom. He inherited an ample 
fortune ; but in the prosecution of his philanthropic views, and 
through neglect of his own private affairs, he became, at one 
time at least, embarrassed. He was a man of distinguished 
family, of highly accomplished address, and of superior literary 
attainments. By a singular chain of circumstances, extending 



ihrougli a series of years, Pf.nn luul at once llie fortune and the 
misfortune, to enjoy the pecuhar favor of his sovereign, James 
the Second. His father, Admiral Penn, was a cathohc, and 
from his great services, a favorite with Charles the Second, and 
with James, while Duke of York. The favor enjoyed by an 
illustrious father descended to the son. This was the origin of 
William Penn's interest at court. 

It was no wonder, then, that he was an object of contempt to 
some — of hatred and envy to others. These feelings partially 
restrained for a time, broke out into open malice and revenge 
when that infatuated ruler, (James the Second,) became odious 
to the nation, and, in the end, justly forfeited the crown. When 
that event took place, Penn stood aloof from the herd of apos- 
tates, who, from having been satellites about the court of king 
James, all at once became the fiercest to condemn him, and the 
loudest in their hosannas to his successful competitor. Like a 
true man, Penn continued to avow his attachment to his fallen 
friend, even at the risk of chains and confiscation. 

While James the Second occupied the throne, Penn pro- 
claimed on all proper occasions, his desire to retain the favor 
of his sovereign. He sought to do it, however without a sacri- 
fice of principle, and was actuated by the most honorable and 
benevolent motives. His interests as the proprietor^ of a prov- 
ince, the frequent attempts to reduce the proprietary govern- 
ment to a regal one and other measures of interference with his 
rights, compelled him to suspend his favorite idea of a perma- 
nent residence in Pennsylvania, required almost his constant 
presence at court, and brought him into familiar intercourse with 
the king. But the great use he made of his position, was to 
shield his religious brethren, and other non-conformists, from 
persecution, and to advance his favorite principle of universal 
toleration — an object for which he had been struggling all his 
life — from the period, when, quite a youth, he had pi-eferred the 
frowns of an angry parent, and the horrors of a dungeon, to the 

2 



10 

blandishments of the world and to the crime of apostacy, up to 
the time when it became his lot to bask, like others, in the sun- 
shine of royal favor. One of the first acts of James the Second, 
after his accession, and while William Penn was supposed to 
wield a potent influence over his counsels, was to proclaim this 
very principle of religious liberty. If, in this, the king played 
a double part, and if his real purpose was, under the garb of this 
measure, to restore the ascendency of the Roman Catholic Relig- 
ion, Penn should not be held responsible for the hypocrisy and 
secret designs of the king. Where a boon is proffered, it would 
be madness in the party to whom it is offered, to reject it, be- 
cause he may not comprehend, or may suspect, the motives of the 
grantor, or because others may share the boon. Penn, and his 
religious brethren, naturally cherished a feeling of gratitude for 
what was, truly to them, an act of clemency. It was one that 
struck off' their chains, gave them liberty of conscience, and 
promised them an equality of political rights with their country- 
men. Penn acted in the matter with entire singleness of pur- 
pose. The more artful mind of the king, no doubt, found means 
to flatter Penn with the belief that his long cherished vision was 
about to be realized, and universal liberty of conscience at last 
secured. It may be that Penn did make some sacrifices in en- 
deavoring to maintain a position at court, that would enable him 
to accomplish this great passion of his soul — this absorbing pur- 
pose of his life. But why should he be denounced, in the bitter 
language of the Author, as " a tool of the king and the Jesuits ]" 

There is no evidence that Penn ever used the advantages of 
his position for purposes of pecuniary gain to himself, or of offi- 
cial advancement. These were the prevailing vices of that licen- 
tious age, and perhaps of every age, in every country. He stood 
alone, and above all other crown favorites of his day, if he resist- 
ed, with success, these formidable temptations. 

If, then, his conduct deviated, in some minor points, from 
what, in our day, and according to his own teachings, would be 



11 

considered the strict line of propriety, it must have been owing 
to that amiable weakness which consists in too great a deference 
to the wishes of powerful friends. This, no doubt, was his gi-eat 
foible. This it was that secured his co-operation in the king's 
attempt to force the obnoxious Bishop of Oxford on the fellows 
of Magdalen College. This it is that has furnished a pretext 
to the Author to talk about " bribes to vanity," and, under that 
guise, to convey a wicked insinuation. This it was that made 
him yield, if he did yield, to the entreaties of the ladies of the 
court, to serve them in their mercenary scheme of levying black- 
mail on the female population of Taunton, who had given their 
aid and all their sympathy to the rash and ill-starred Monmouth. 
But the part Penn took in this transaction was probably mis- 
represented. Even the Author admits that his hands were not 
soiled by the least share of the plunder, and thinks it not im- 
possible that he may have undertaken this ungracious office, if 
he undertook it at all, from a conscientious belief that he was 
warding off some heavier blow from the population of a rebel- 
lious city. Or he may have been led into it, as he was into oth- 
ers, from clinging too closely and too ardently to his great pur- 
pose of seeing his country emancipated fi'om the yoke of relig- 
ious bigotry and intolerance. It was the same high purpose 
that brought on him nearly every misfortune, and yet became 
the crowning glory of his career. It was this that led him to 
sustain the king in the Declaration of Indulgence — a measure, 
which, to the ingenuous mind of Penn, seemed a potent lever 
in the work of i-eligious and political regenei'ation. To the 
mind of the nation, however, it concealed, under a specious pre- 
tence, a flaofrant breach of the Constitution, and a hic^h-handed 
act of usui*pation. This, and other kindred measures, formed 
the rock on which the foi'tunes of the king were wrecked. It 
is the fate of a king, when he falls under a load of popular dis- 
pleasure, not only to be pursued with detraction himself, but to 
leave nothing but a legacy of odium, whether merited or un- 



12 

merited, to the friends who have adhered to his fortunes. This 
truth was never more fully demonstrated than, in the life of 
William Penn. Here is the prolific source from which sprung 
nearly every adverse circumstance of his life, and most of the 
caulmnies that have been heaped on his name. 

He labored under another disadvantage, that falls to the lot 
of but few men. He had erected for the government of his 
own conduct, and had recommended to the world, a standard 
of moral, social and religious excellence, too exalted for the 
depraved nature of mankind to follow. What in others, there- 
fore, would have been regarded as a trifling indiscretion, was, 
in him, according to the unsparing judgment of his traducers, 
a high crime. Thus every mis-step in his career was blazoned 
forth in colors that would have suited the conspiracy of Cataline, 
or the ajjostacy of Judas. 

Having access to the royal ear, he never ceased to plead the 
cause of the non-conformists, who were immured in the dun- 
geons of the kingdom, and were suffering for conscience sake. 
It was mainly owing to his influence and exertions, that more 
than fouiteen hundred of his persecuted brethren, and twice 
that number of the Roman Catholic persuasion, were released 
from prison. One would have supposed that, when it was in the 
power of the Author to dwell on a topic, so interesting, and so 
worthy of historical note, he might have omitted some other tri- 
fling incidents which he has taken the pains to relate. One was 
that, at times, Pcnn forgot in his deportment, his conversation 
and letters, the plain manners and style of address peculiar to 
his sect. The Author forgot that Penn had been educated in a 
different style, and how natural it was that one should break in 
upon the other. No man can entirely unlearn the manners or 
language of his boyhood. A liberal mind would be at a loss to dis- 
cover any great degree of violence to a religious creed in an acci- 
dental or occasional act of deference to the tastes of polite society, 
in mere matters of form. Another circumstance, equally unim- 



13 

portant, was that Penn went to witness the execution of Cornish, 
and the burning of Elizabeth Gaunt, for participation in tlio 
Monmouth rebelUon ; from which we are expected to infer 
that he loved such exhibitions. We venture to say that the 
Author had no evidence that Penn ever witnessed another exe- 
cution either before or afterward, and, therefore, the Author 
had no right to draw an inference which, if correct, would leave 
a stigma, slight it is true, but still a stigma on the character of 
Penn : because such sights are generally spectacles of horror to 
the refined and educated mind. Having himself suffered as a 
prisoner in the dungeons of New-Gate for opinion's sake, he 
may have been drawn to the spot by a powerful feeling of sym- 
pathy. He may have gone to have his horror of " man's inhu- 
manity to man," renewed and confirmed, or to learn a striking 
lesson on the vanity of human affairs. A better temper on the 
part of the Author would have suggested the entire omission 
of a matter which, in itself, was utterly unworthy of notice. But 
it was coupled with another fact that reflected great honor on 
the character of Penn. Although a friend to the court, he boldly 
said he saw nothing in the conduct of Cornish at the gallows but 
that of an innocent man, who had been sacrificed for political 
ends under the forms of law. Nor is this the only occasion on 
which he, who is held up as a parasite, manfully resisted the 
w^ishes, and condemned the proceedings of the king. The Auth- 
or's allusions to trifles like these, betray a disposition to make a 
fling at the character of Penn, whenever there is a reasonable 
pretext, and, in these instances, he has gone out of his way to 
find pretexts. 

The Author is understood to have been a protege, an intimate 
friend, and a close disciple, in letters at least, of Sydney Smith, 
who, it is well known, cherished a mortal antipathy to the Quak- 
ers, or, in his own parlance, the Drab-coats of Pennsylvania ; 
because, for a short time, and from unforseen causes, she failed 
to pay tlic interest on tlie stale debt, and uiifc'rlunalely i">r her, 



14 

Sydney Smith was one of her bond-holders. It proved a seri- 
ous injury to Pennsylvania to have thus given offence to a man, 
vv^ho exercised so potent a sway over the opinions of the world. 
Wielding a pen sharper than the edge of a Damascus blade, and 
dipping it in ink of gall, he embraced every occasion to hold her 
up before the gaze of the world as a spectacle of violated faith ; 
and did more than all other men in Europe to fix a stain on her 
escutcheon. The stain, howevei", was soon wiped away by her 
restored credit. 

Perhaps the Author may have imbibed the prejudices of his 
friend against everything that bore the name of Penn, or had 
any connection with the Quakers of Pennsylvania. It is wrong 
to impute motives, especially when they are not sustained by 
evidence, but rest almost solely on conjecture. But the Author 
must excuse his readers if they follow his example. He makes 
some sweeping charges that are not sustained by his specifica- 
tions. There is nothing more easy than to make charges, to call 
names, and to impugn motives. It is an easy thing to say that 
a man's religion is all hypocrisy — that his outward professions 
are but a cloak to his vices — that every charitable deed is the off- 
spring of corrupt motives — that every act of the politician or the 
statesman, whether good or bad, is born of bribery or ambition — 
that every man who has the ear of majesty, is a jiarasite — and 
that those, whose counsels direct the exercise of sovereign 
power, are but time-servers and sycophants. If the ashes of 
William Penn could speak, his voice would be heard ascending 
to heaven against the cruelty and injustice of this vulgar procliv- 
ity. 

Strong in the consciousness of his own rectitude, and carrying 
the doctrine of non-resistence too far, perhaps, for his own good, 
while he was fully aware that the world teemed with false and 
wicked reports, intended to asperse and injure his character, he 
bore them all with christian meekness, and refused to adopt any 
measures of public defence, or vindication. He persisted in this 



15 

course. His friends, on one occasion, entreated him to come out 
and 2)ul)licly refute certain calumnies, Avith which he had been 
assailed. He only yielded at last to their solicitations as a mea- 
sure of justice towards some of his friends, who were implicated 
with him in the same slanderous reports. Ex uno disce omnes. 
A sample of the slanders from which he deigned to vindicate, 
and did vindicate himself triumphantly, in his life time, might 
have served to inspire the Author with some distrust as to other 
charges, which may never have reached the ear of Penn, or, if 
they did, may have come in such shapes, and from such sources, 
that they were not held entitled to a serious notice. At the time 
tliey were circulated, they may have been deemed harmless, 
under the full blaze of light to which they were exposed. Time, 
it seems, has given them poisonous qualities which they did not 
originally possess. Rem acu tetigit. The genius of the Author 
has given them point. Of the reports, to which, with gi'eat re- 
luctance, and after much solicitation, he did consent to reply, we 
are not without specimens. Other charges, which have been 
polished and sharpened by the master hand of the Author, might, 
if the truth were known, be found as baseless and malignant. 

He was charged, among other things, with gross hypocrisy — 
with being a papist in disguise, a priest, and a Jusuit bred at St, 
Omers — with officiatintj in the celebration of mass in the kinsr's 
private chapel — and with participation in all the king's schemes 
for the subversion of the Anglician church. In our day, when the 
doctrine of universal toleration has become stripped of all its im- 
aginary terrors, and stands out in all its genuine beauty, some of 
these accusations would be deemed perfectly harmless. But at 
the period when they were uttered, they were all of very serious 
import. The Author is wholly mistaken when he says these re- 
ports only gained credit with the unreflecting multitude. It 
may suit his purpose to say that of charges that were proved to 
be false. But they had made an impres&ion on men of under- 
standing and character, and filled the minds of his own friends 



16 

■with suspicion. He was vilified by scurrilous publications in 
print. A refinement in cruelty was invented to wound his feel- 
ings, and defame his character. It consisted in the publication, 
over his own name, of pieces every line of which was a libel on 
his well-known sentiments. And yet the Author, in his notes, 
refers to the press of the day as the quiver from which, in part, 
he has drawn his poisoned arrows. What would be thought of 
a life of any one of the Presidents, prepared two hundred 
years hence, from materials furnished by the opposition press 
of his own day 1 What estimate would a foreigner put on our 
public men, who would form his opinion from what he reads in 
hostile newspapei-s, during a political canvass 1 

A distinguished friend, in urging Penn to make a public vin- 
dication, in reference to these particular reports, says ; " You 
are not ignorant that the part you have been supposed to have 
had, of late years, in public affairs, though without either the 
title, or honor, or profit, of any public office, and that, especially, 
your avowed endeavors to introduce amongst us a general and 
inviolable liberty of conscience, in matters of mere religion, 
have occasioned the mistakes of some men, provoked the malice 
of others, and in the end have raised against you a multitude 
of enemies, who have unworthily defamed you with such im- 
putations as, I am sure, you abhor." 

In reply, Penn says, " It is now above twenty years, I thank 
God, that I have not been very solicitous what the world thought 
of me. For since I have had the knowledge of religion from a 
principle within myself, the first and main point with me has 
been to approve myself in the sight of Ciod, through patience 
and well-doing : So that the world has not had weight enough 
with me, to suffer its good opinion to raise me, or its ill opinion 
to deject me. And if that had been the only motive or consider- 
ation, and not the desire of a good friend in the name of many 
others, I had been as silent to thy letter as I am to the idle and 
malicious s/uims of the day. But as the laws of friendship are 



17 

sacred with those that value that relation, so I confess this to 
be a principal one with me, not to deny a friend the satisfaction 
he desires, when it can be done without offence to a good con- 
science." 

He then goes on and stamps with falsehood every charge to 
which his letter refers. Among other men, who had imbibed 
and given currency to suspicions injurious to his standing, was 
the celebrated Dr. Tillotson. But, having become convinced 
that the suspicions were utterly unfounded, he made a full rep- 
aration by a frank acknowledgment of his mistake. Such would 
have probably been the fate of other calumnies, had they been 
met in the same way. But, having passed unnoticed then, it is 
melancholy to think they should now pass for truth, Crcdat 
JudcBus. The people of Pennsylvania will require an inspec- 
tion of the proofs before they believe the charges. Nor will 
they tamely look on without raising a cry of help, or interposing 
to break the force of the blow, when sacriligeous hands are 
raised to strike down the chiefest among the household Gods 
of the Commonwealth. 

The spirit of persecution that followed Penn, did not stop 
with the fall of his royal patron. The malice of his enemies 
found means to excite a suspicion of disaffection, on his part, 
toward the new government of William and Mary. A criminal 
charge was fabricated, on which he was held to bail to answer. 
The witnesses employed to carry on this flagrant scheme oi 
oppression, were notorious impostors — wretches, themselves 
charged with crime, and suborned by a promise of pardon. 
The promise was redeemed. The pardons were granted. But 
they were no sooner released, than some of them fled, and 
others refused to incur the guilt of perjury, and actually begged 
his pardon for the injuiy they had inflicted on his feelings and 
his fame. Here was a striking tribute from guill t(» innocence. 
On the strength of information derived from llicso polluted 
sources, the charge had liccn suspended over him for two sue- 



18 

cessive terms. On the last day of the second term, nothing 
having appeared against him, he was cleared in open Court. 
In the following year he was again held to bail on a charge of 
holding a correspondence with the exiled king ; and was again 
discharged. A third time he was accused, and his name was 
inserted in a proclamation along with other persons charged 
with adhering to the enemies of the kingdom; and nothing 
appearing against him, he was again released. A fourth accusa- 
tion was preferred, founded on the oath of a wretch, who was 
afterward declared by Parliament to be a cheat and an impos- 
tor. This accusation was held over his head, and operated as a 
restraint on his liberty, for more than two years. On a repre- 
sentation by the Secretary of State, and other highly influential 
friends, of his case, to king William, as being hard and oppres- 
sive, there being no evidence to sustain the charges, and a 
blameless life of thirty years being, in itself, an ample refutation, 
he was again discharged, and the prosecution was abandoned. 

Here, then, was slander after slander, even in an official form. 
As to the calumnies that fell upon him from iiTesponsible and 
individual sources, no man at this day, or at that day, could tell 
the number. There was at least enough to make the historian 
cautious how he gave credit to the idle gossip, or the malicious 
effusions of a period, when the character and conduct of Penn 
were only seen through a dense and distorting mist of prejudice, 
when all, who, like him, had enjoyed the peculiar favor of the 
dethroned monarch, were looked upon as fit marks for the ven- 
geance of a triumphant party. And there may have been 
among the hungry and grasping spirits that besieged the new 
dynasty, those who looked with a longing and envious eye to 
his vast possessions across the Atlantic, and hoped to see his 
title extinguished by an act of confiscation. A project like this 
may have had something to do with subjecting him to the ordeal 
of four successive abortive criminal jirosecutions. May not this 
have been one of the secret springs in the machinery of oppres- 



19 

sion ] Why was every tongue employed to defame, and eveiy 
arm uplifted to strike down, a mere non-resistant — a man, 
whom, in the language used by Lords Rochester, Ranelagh, and 
Sidney, in stating his case to the king, " they had known for 
thirty years, and had never known him to do an ill thing, but 
many good offices." These gentlemen were the enemies of 
king James and the fiiends of king William. Their testimony, 
therefore, is entitled to the highest degree of consideration. 

Through all the changes and vicissitudes that marked his 
career in the great European world — amid all the temptations, 
the trials, and the perils that beset his path — Penn never ceased 
to cherish the most anxious solicitude for the welfare of his 
Province. He yearned toward it as the spot destined to be his 
home and his retreat for life. He considered his fortunes 
wrapped up in those of his colony. During the long period of 
his constrained absence in England, he continued to write to 
his people, addressing them letters full of sympathy, affection, 
and salutary advice. At times a restless spirit of opposition 
exhaled from the poisoned atmosphere of London, was displayed 
toward him by the colonists themselves : the *' Children who had 
been planted by his care." He uniformly met their complaints, 
and even their reproaches, in a spirit of forbearance and conces- 
sion ; but, at the same time with the dignity of a man, who un- 
derstood alike their own interests and his rights. When mutual 
dissensions prevailed among them to any unusual extent, his 
parental voice recalled them to a sense of those pure and simple 
christian virtues, on which the colony was founded — on which 
the character and prosperity of the commonwealth rest at this 
day. Long may it stand on that foundation, an example of 
good government — of liberty without licentiousness — of virtue 
and intelligence — of law and order — to other states and nations 
of the world. 

The Author gives it as his opinion that William Penn was 
not a man of strong sense. He may not have had an acute 



20 

mind. He may not have possessed that sort of mental caliber 
that displays itself in sarcasm or satire, in brilliant composition, 
in flashes of wit or in the workings of a powerful imagination. 
These are the exclusive attributes of genius. It too often happens 
that genius is more dazzling than useful. But if he had not genius, 
which bids for the admiration, and sneers at the follies and vices 
of mankind, he had a soul to feel for their wrongs, to weep over 
their depravity, and to reform abuses which time, bigotry and 
misgovernment had riveted on Christianity and civilization. 
His spirit was humble ; but his breast heaved with mighty 
emotions, that looked to the emancipation of his race from 
religious and political thraldom. 

The keen eye of the historian may detect blemishes that mar 
the beauty of his life ; but he cannot rob the world of the bene- 
fit of his labors in the cause of philanthropy. Nor can he blot 
out the many monuments, more durable than bronze or marble, 
by which his memory is consecrated, within the limits of our 
own great State. Here is the temple in which his spirit is en- 
shrined. It glides along our streams. It is echoed in our moun- 
tains. It dwells in our peaceful valleys. It breathes in the 
humanity of our penal code. It lives in our system of free 
education. It was present in our legislative halls when human 
bondage was expelled from our borders. It rises toward 
heaven in our public charities, and our temples of religion. It 
comes in the voice of the evening breeze, speaking contentment 
and security to the husbandman in his happy home. It is 
mingled with the never-ending sound of the moving mass that 
throng the streets of our great and beautiful Metropolis. It is 
immortalized in the noble Commonwealth that bears his name. 
May it abide in the hearts of our people ! 

In his intercourse with the Indian Tribes he seemed to have a 
power, like that of music, " to soothe the savage breast." He 
exercised a more enduring, a more extended, and a more bene- 
ficial influence over the natives than any other man of Eurojiean 



21 

race ever did, either befoi'c or after him. He maintained witli 
them an unbroken peace as long as he lived. They looked u\) 
to him with a docile and filial regard. The fame of his good- 
ness spread w^ith the w^anderings of the young hunter from tribe 
to tribe. The aged warrior taught it as a sacred lesson to his 
offspring. Tradition handed it down from generation to genera- 
tion. And there is not an Indian tribe from the Atlantic to the 
Rocky Mountains, that does not, to this day, pronounce his 
name with reverence. We cannot do less. We may do moi'e, 
if we imitate his virtues. 



